


Brother in Arms

by Hiding_in_the_cookie_jar



Series: Priest!Spock [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, M/M, Priest!AU, Semi-Abusive Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiding_in_the_cookie_jar/pseuds/Hiding_in_the_cookie_jar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a diplomatic dinner, Spock finds his long lost brother. It should be a happy reunion but as the weeks go on, Spock seems to be effected by Sybok’s constant presence. McCoy is worried, Jim is considering kicking Vulcan ass. Years after the 2009 movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother in Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, a priest!au. 
> 
> Story thus far: Years after recovering from the destruction of Vulcan, Spock joins Starfleet. He has relapses of the mystery illness he had when Nero attacked and is still fragile. But, Spock becomes science officer during the Enterprises's five year mission. McCoy is very protective of his vulcan, which leads to too many arguments and stress.
> 
> Might not make sense unless you follow darkcat's and mine's headcanon exchanges on tumblr. Sorry.

 

> **In case anyone wants to catch up on the priest!au headcanon exchange.[Here.](http://thelittledarkcat.tumblr.com/tagged/priest%21Spock)**

They found Sybok on another planet.

Spock, upon seeing him emerge from a group of natives at a diplomatic dinner, paled and his knees went weak. McCoy saw his white face and insisted he sit down. Spock could not protest.

His head swam and he heard McCoy’s tricorder whirring.

“Doctor,” he said once he found his voice. “I am well.” 

“Don’t be stubborn -” 

“No!” McCoy merely raised an eyebrow at his harsh objection. Lately, it was not unusual for Spock to have outbursts when frustrated with McCoy. Spock took a second to compose himself. “I am well. I merely saw someone I was not expecting.”

“Who?” 

Spock stares at the Vulcan, tall and broad. He had a beard and shaggy hair that didn’t quite cover his pointed ears. But Spock could recognize him through the hair and aging. The familiar brown eyes and square jaw. And, of course, the alien passion and emotion burning bright from him. 

“My brother.”

“What?”

“My brother, Leonard. Are you having trouble hearing?” 

“No, no. You never - you don’t have a brother.” 

“I just stated that I saw him.” Spock rose to his feet, the color in his face recovered. “Therefore, I must have one. I know my family.”

“But you’ve never said anything about having a brother.”

“It is a… complicated, long story. I will inform you of the details at another time.”

Sybok’s eyes fell on Spock, critically eyeing the little priest. Spock nodded and left McCoy staring blankly at the brothers.

After a long conversation and private tears, it was revealed that Sarek and Amanda were dead, that Spock had become a priest in his youth but had since stopped practicing, and Sybok planned to try to be re-admitted into their clan on New Vulcan after years of self-discipline. Sybok was overwhelmed when he learned that Spock had escaped Vulcan. He even wrapped Spock in his arms, hugging a bit too tightly.

It took some harsh convincing on Spock’s part and a charming Sybok but Jim agreed to take Sybok to New Vulcan. It wasn’t priority, he made clear, so it would take a while to get there. Spock was secretly pleased that that meant extra time with his brother.

That night, as Spock was dressing for bed, McCoy couldn’t help but notice that he looked absolutely giddy.

“So how long has it been since you’ve seen Sybok?” he asked.

Spock began unbraiding his hair. “I have not seen him since I was 7 years old.”

McCoy sat down next to Spock on the bed, he took his Vulcan in his arms. “What happened?”

“Sybok has always been disgraceful. He seeked to find emotion and insisted that it was a better path to life for all Vulcans. After so many instances of him attempting to force his views on others, he was banished from our clan and it was said even our planet. It was always uncertain to me if the council ordered his leaving or if he chose to himself or if he simply went into hiding on Vulcan.”

Spock leaned into McCoy.

“When Vulcan was destroyed, I still did not know if he was on planet. If he was, I knew he would be dead. If not, then I still had no possibilities to see him again.”

McCoy squeezed him. He laid them down, tucking Spock against him like usual.

“So this is a pleasant surprise. What was he doing on that planet?”

“He has - as he described it - been ‘planet hopping’. He befriends the natives and they accept him as one of their own. Eventually, he leaves and finds another planet.”

"To borrow a phrase,  _fascinating_.”

___________________________

 

Jim grew suspicious two weeks after they took Sybok aboard.

"Is Spock alright?" He asked over lunch. "He seems pretty out of it lately."

"He hasn’t been sleeping or meditating well," McCoy said. "I’ve tried getting him to let me help but he keeps refusing. I figured it would be best to let it go for now."

"Why? It’s not like he’ll actually go to you if he needs you. He’s too damn stubborn."

"I know but I didn’t want to start an argument. It always makes things worse. Besides, he may get over this himself."

Jim poked at his sandwich. “Do you think this might be because of Sybok?”

"I don’t want to start blaming his brother for anything."

"I know. I mean, it’s not his fault per se but… maybe it’s just digging up too many memories."

"I thinks it’s best if we just give Spock some space right now. If he gets worse, I’ll tie him to a bed if that means treating his stubborn ass."

Jim snickered. “Don’t you do that anyways?”

"Shut up!"

Jim was laughing too hard at his own comment to see the fry come right at his face.

__________________________

 

McCoy became concerned the week after that.

Spock was completely exhausted and barely ate anymore. After his shift on most days, he would go to the sofa and lounge for the rest of the day. He didn’t necessarily sleep - though, McCoy had found him napping there more than once - but worked on reports or read. On other days, he went to go see Sybok.

McCoy was wary. Spock always seemed more wilted each time he saw his brother. He typically would spend a whole evening in Sybok’s room and would go straight to bed after returning no matter what time it was. McCoy would crawl in next to him, wrapping the priest in his arms.

McCoy could see that Spock was losing weight. His face was slimmer and his clothes appeared baggier (and his clothes never exactly fit in the first place). He knew that Spock had barely been eating over the past few weeks and while vulcans could slow their metabolism so they could live off one meal for a while, stress began piling on Spock and his already thin frame was getting smaller.

"Just a little bit, darlin’."

Spock stared at the bowl of soup in McCoy’s hands. He had brought it back to Spock who laid draped over the sofa.

"I have no appetite."

McCoy sighed. “Spock, you’re really starting to worry me. Just take a few bites. You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t at least try.”

Spock slowly took the bowl. He ate a total of three spoonfuls before handing it back to McCoy.

"Alright," McCoy sighed in defeat. "Are you ready for bed?"

It was only 1800 hours but Spock nodded. McCoy carried him to their bed and tucked him in.

"I’ll be in in a just few minutes." He kissed Spock’s forehead and left for bathroom.

When McCoy came back, Spock was fast asleep, curled into a tight ball. McCoy laid next to him, feeling his bony body shiver in his hold.

The next morning, Spock woke up later than usual but did not seem to care. He always woke up early enough to spare half an hour since McCoy likes to cuddle in the morning. McCoy was already up, though, and had apparently left Spock to get a little extra sleep. His illogical doting was appreciated deep down.

While McCoy shaved at the sink, Spock stepped in the shower. McCoy could hear him slowly go through his morning ritual thoroughly. He could hear the shampoo bottle open after a few minutes, the undisturbed flow of water as he stood out of the spray to wash his hair, and the fall of the water in Spock’s thick hair spilling heavily to the floor while he rinsed it out.

Then, a whimper.

McCoy was wiping off his face when he heard it echo through the bathroom. He rushed forward as Spock tripped out of the shower, catching the man as he went collapsing to the floor. 

Spock was white as a sheet and brought a shaking hand up to his mouth. McCoy scooted them closer the toilet just as Spock began heaving.

He brought nothing up but pained whines as his abdomen muscles contracted everytime he retched. McCoy rubbed his back and brushed his soaking hair away from his face.

"Leonard," he whimpered. 

"I’m right here. I got you."

Spock lurched forward once more. He whined as bile pooled out of his mouth and burned his throat and nose. McCoy’s hands were on his cold back, moving in circles and bringing warmth.

Spock leaned back into the warm arms.

Bright yellow bile covered his mouth from spilling from his nose and falling down his chin. It clashed with his pale skin, making him look even sicker. McCoy grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began wiping his face.

"Come on," McCoy said. "Let’s get your teeth brushed and then you can go back to bed."

Spock was content with that plan. He could sleep for a week and perhaps Leonard would let him.

____________________________

 

“How are you feeling now?” Sybok asked. 

“Better,” Spock replied. 

A lie.

He was still exhausted and could not even sit up on his own; he was currently resting against a pile of pillows. The only improvement was his stomach had settled since that morning.

Sybok, upon hearing that his younger brother was ill, had gone to his quarters after Spock convinced McCoy to still report to his shift. They had talked for hours, Sybok continually asking him how he felt.

“I do not what came over me,” Spock continued. “It came and went.”

Another lie.

McCoy had listed everything wrong that morning. High blood pressure, low blood sugar, slight dehydration, malnutrition, and physical and mental exhaustion. It was only a matter of time before something happened. McCoy was just surprised that he didn’t faint first.

Sybok smiled. “You are recovering, though. That is all that matters.”

He reached out and grabbed Spock’s closest hand. Spock suppressed a wince. His control was already damaged and Sybok’s strong emotions hit him like a train. He took a deep breath and waited for the storm in his mind to ease.

The door slid open a moment later and Sybok released Spock’s hand. McCoy watched the two of them as he walked into the bedroom portion of their quarters.

“Good evening,” Spock said.

“Evening, darlin’,” he said, setting down the hypos and scanner he had prepared for that night.

“It is getting late.” Sybok rose to his feet. “I will leave you to rest.”

Spock nodded respectfully.  

As soon as the door closed, Spock wilted into the pillows. He slid down until he was practically laying down on the bed.

McCoy sat next to him and brushed his long hair away from his face.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I am fine, Leonard.”

“Fine?”

Spock closed his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“That you’re grouchy and still feeling sick.”

McCoy laid next to him. He smiled as he pulled Spock close to him.

“Did Sybok keep an eye on you?”

“Yes. He even coaxed me into eating.”

“I should start using him as a babysitter instead of Jim.”

Spock felt dull pain at the base of his mind linger from Sybok’s touch. It always happened. He would touch Spock and the emotions were so overwhelming that Spock continued to feel them long after Sybok had left. They even radiated off of him at times. Spock had trouble keeping up his shields around Sybok and it had begun taking it’s toll on him.

“Take a nap and when you wake up, we’ll eat dinner,” McCoy said, his hand coming up to rest on Spock’s chest.  

Spock’s eyelids were already drooping shut.

__________________________________________

 

Spock leaned against the bulkhead while the ship seemed to tilt around him. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths until his head no longer swam and he could see straight.

When he fully recovered, he knocked on the door. He took one more calming breath before Sybok answered and eagerly ushered him in. 

Spock declined the offers of tea Sybok had already made. It was just that morning Spock was curled into a tight ball, fighting intense waves of nausea. McCoy laid with him, a bin by Spock’s head just in case, until Spock felt well enough to get up. He tried convincing Spock to take the day off but he refused. There had been too many days in the past week that he had felt ill to start taking days off whenever McCoy insisted. He had work to do and he would surely fall behind on all of it if he listened to Leonard.

Of course, he was also falling behind by reporting to his shift in state he was in.

He worked slowly, hiding his shivers, his urge to vomit, and his occasional vertigo. It was his shields. He had allowed Sybok to go too deep and memories of the destruction of Vulcan resurfaced in his dreams. Both easily knocked down his shields and left his control unstable. Spock would repair them easily once Sybok was off the ship.

Not that Spock wanted Sybok to leave.

They always had pleasant conversations. They would talk fondly about their childhood, about how Spock would unknowingly follow Sybok into trouble or how I-Chaya would let them climb on his back. Spock would feel warmth in his chest reliving these memories but hours later, when it was dark and quiet in their quarters, the warmth would grow cold and settle into a hard ball. It made for Spock to breathe and he couldn’t ignore it. He always wanted to wake up Leonard but he was too numb to move.

He continued these conversations, though, because the few moments of pleasure were worth the misery later.

“Father did not appreciate my artwork on the walls of my bedroom,” Spock said, a subtle smile on his lips. “I never knew that I was misbehaving.”

“Sarek never understood you.”

“Perhaps not.”

Spock’s smile faded as Sybok’s eyes turned dark.

“You deserved better than what he provided. He was not a fit father.”

Spock furrowed his eyebrows. “I would not go as far as that. We had our differences but -”

“But  _what_?

His voice raised and the sting in his tone chilled Spock, stealing his breath.

“You have been disillusioned by his death. Sarek was incapable of raising a half-human child. He took away your humanity and you have forgotten that in your mourning. You would have been better off if he let you be who you were.”

Spock’s chest was tight and his throat dried and constricted. “I was given a choice. I consented to which path I would choose. 

“And the school bullies and Sarek’s disapproval did not sway your decision?”

“N…” Spock lost his words. Sybok did not seem to notice.

“You were put in an environment and given the option of surviving in it or not. To fit in and be accepted or to be shunned by your community. If you had chosen to lead a human lifestyle, do you believe the clan would have not disowned you? Your mother would have been the only one who accepted you - No. Your mother was the only one who accepted you.

“Spock,” Sybok grabbed both of his hands. Hot pain shot through Spock’s body. “You belong in the universe but Sarek was part of the reason why you felt you did not.” 

Spock lowered his head. The only way to end to conversation was to lie. He had become better at that. “I understand.”

Sybok smiled and moved his hands to Spock’s shoulders. “You are my little brother. I endeavor to protect you.”

“If you will excuse me, I have plans to meet Leonard for lunch. 

Sybok’s smile widened. “I truly like Dr. McCoy. He is a good man for you.”

“He is…”

Spock hurried out of the room, his legs weakening with every step until he was in sickbay and collapsed onto the couch in McCoy’s empty office. He took a minute to control his breathing, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

McCoy noticed the new lethargy that plagued Spock when he ate lunch and Spock picked at his salad. He did not say anything, though. It was best to avoid a potential breakdown in public.

___________________________

 

Spock was freezing cold on the bridge. His breathing was quick and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, making his mind foggy. 

As soon as his shift ended, he would find Leonard and he would tuck him in bed and cuddle him under a pile of blankets. He would get to lay down and his head would stop spinning and Leonard would stabilize him. The spinning was becoming the worst. He could barely see straight. All Spock needed to do was focus on Leonard and a warm bed.

Spock only got progressively worse as he worked through his shift. His stomach began churning. He was lightheaded and feared he would collapse from his chair or vomit on his computers. He was too cold to focus on anything. By the time he decided that he needed Leonard that very minute, he was hunched over his console, shivering, and there was a ringing in his ears that threatened to take over his senses.

“Captain?”

Jim spun around and felt his heart drop. Spock looked like shit. He was pale and had a heavy flush spreading on his cheeks. Dark circles had been under his eyes for a while but they only looked worse now as he stared with miserable, fever bright eyes. He was curled in on himself, all attempts at being professional gone. 

Uhura looked ready to go up and coo over him.

Jim could not think of appropriate words to say.

“May I go down to sickbay?” Spock’s voice was strained and could barely heard. The poor thing sounded like a sick child. 

“Of course,” Jim said, starting to stand up. “Do you need me to help you get there?”

Spock shook his head and slowly rose to his feet. “I will manage.”

He trudged to the lift, every step using energy he didn’t have. When the doors closed, he leaned against the wall, pressing his forehead against the metal and clutching his stomach. The ringing in his ears was deafening.

Spock wanted Leonard and nothing else. He wanted to find the man and hide in his embrace, away from the world and escaping his misery. Leonard was always so warm. Warm and gentle when he was sick. Spock could hear him already, whispering comforting words as he took care of him. 

I _t’s going to be alright. I’m right here._

Spock just wanted Leonard with him and to lay down somewhere.

Tears filled his eyes.

The vulcan stumbled out into the corridors, grabbing the walls to stay upright. Officers stopped to stare at him, pausing to see if he was going to make it to the end of the hallway.

He did not. 

The ringing grew unbearable and his vision began to dim as his stomach rolled. When Spock thought he should just stop walking and call McCoy from there, he fainted. 

His head hit the floor with a loud thud.

Officers ran to him, making sure to give him plenty of space as three young science ensigns kneeled in front of him. They all stared at each other cluelessly.

“Get him to sickbay!” someone said.

The boys began to lift him.

“Call the Captain,” someone else said.

“Call Dr. McCoy first.”

“Shit, is he supposed to be this hot?”

“Just get him to McCoy!”

 


End file.
